


Playing Soldier

by wook77



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wook77/pseuds/wook77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a history of violence there. One that tells Connor that Murphy can take care of himself. After all, they've been playing soldier for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for wizefics at Yuletide 2007 as a stocking stuffer. Originally posted [here](http://www.yuletidetreasure.org/archive/56/playingsoldier.html). Also posted on my LJ [here](http://wook77.livejournal.com/179754.html). Unbeataed

They're training, marching like little toy soldiers in a row. Right. Left. Right. Left. Back and forth. Up and down. They keep marching with all the other boys from their neighborhood. The guns in their hands all have live bullets in them and that's to be expected because they could be attacked at any moment. Fucking Orangemen and their bloodthirst. Connor looks to Murphy while Murphy looks to Connor and it's as if they can hear each other cursing because, in tandem, they both clear their throats and spit on the ground.

They're five and they're already soldiers in a war that's been going on for thousands of years.

!*!

Connor watches as Murphy ducks behind a dumpster at the end of the alley. The British are coming - and they know how that sounds, like that stupid nursery rhyme that the Americans tell with Paul Revere - and they're trapped like rats in a sinking ship. Connor's hands are sweating so bad that he thinks he's going to lose his grip on his gun. Fucking hell but this whole war thing is for the birds. It's about damned time that the British leave their fucking island already. Christ's sake but he's not at all sure that this is what they're supposed to be doing. Murphy looks to Connor and Connor looks to Murphy and, in tandem, they wipe their hands clean and hold their guns steady. Guns blazing, Murphy drops three soldiers - one, two, three - before Connor has a chance to shoot his first one.

They're thirteen and now they're murderers and won't mam be proud?

!*!

They've been sitting in this pub for going on five hours. There's all sorts of conversations, being this close to the different embassies. It's a good thing their mam insisted they learn the languages because now they're the perfect spies. They slip in through the crowd and no one pays a lick of attention to the boys sitting in the corner having what appears to be their first pints. The Orangeman two tables down gives away some important information on the next attack while the Russian diplomat mutters about wanting another pint and the German secretary whines about needing the loo.

It's only when they step out of the pub that they're attacked. The ambush is near perfect and Connor doesn't hesitate to jump in, fists flying. Murphy's better though, the way that he's moving is brilliantly and breathtakingly violent. It's almost like a dance and Connor stops to watch as Murphy takes on four guys all on his own. He knows that they look like easy targets but they haven't been training since they were wee lads to be taken unawares like this. They'd known the risks and had gone in anyway. Someone sneaks up on Connor while he's watching Murphy and Murphy doesn't pause, just pulls out a gun and shoots over Connor's shoulder, getting the bastard right through the right eye. It's a fucking perfect shot and Connor never worried that he's Murphy's target. Instead, he turns and spits on the police uniform before they both run off.

They're sixteen and now they're wanted men.

!*!

When the fight breaks out at Doc's pub, they know exactly what'll happen. They don't even need to really exchange the look though they do regardless. When the fight is on, they trust that the other knows exactly what's going to happen and it's too true. All that they should've known is that the Russians aren't at all like the Irish. The Irish will come another day but they'll let it stew for a bit, remember and wait for the proper moment. The Russians, though, they react right away to any slight. They need to learn a bit of patience but it's to Connor and Murphy's benefit that they don't because now they're the saints.

They've been working towards this all of their lives.


End file.
